


Leporidae

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Sherlock, Anal Sex, Anthropomorphic, Catlock, M/M, Omega John, Omega Verse, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tails, bunnylock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-12
Updated: 2013-12-12
Packaged: 2018-01-04 10:49:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a Catlock and LopJohn omegaverse story</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leporidae

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starfisharestickers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starfisharestickers/gifts).



> This is kind of a fast and loose mashing of Omega Verse and whatever 'Verse has people walking around with animal ears and tails. If you're faint of heart about non-human appendages in sexual situations this may not be the fic for you.
> 
> That said this is a gift to Tomo, who likes nothing better than some Catlock.

John scrambled for the light switch when he heard the next-door whine of a violin. Sometime in the small hours Sherlock must have returned from his solitary snooping, and now he meant to mull it over. Loudly. John huddled himself back under the covers he'd lost in his sleep, and tucked his long lop ears along his neck. Before grabbing an unoccupied pillow to muffle himself he hollered, “Do you know someone with overlarge ears sleeps here?!”

The violin halted. “No. Hum a few bars and I'll fake it,” a voice deadpanned. John groaned. Sherlock humor tended to have two modes: knee weakening double intedre, and antique gags.

“Come to bed, you great beast.”

Sherlock rarely rested during a case, but it was always worth a try. Very occasionally it seemed the man had forgotten he'd had a bed and such a reminder inspired him to investigate it. John fully expected Sherlock to carry on with his racket, and prepared his lungs to make another appeal. Instead the bedroom door clicked open and his deeply drawn breath left him in a surprised huff. His mate was silhouetted in the doorway, tail undulating in a fluid dance behind his tall form, pert triangular ears directed forward in his inquisitive way.

“Have you ever thought about an ear piercing? Why does someone get an ear piercing, John?” Sherlock seemed genuinely befuddled, but probably less than John who hadn't been obsessing over whatever recent mystery had brought up this inquiry.

“Err, I mean, no. It's not exactly usual for a man, omega, beta, alpha- whatever. Why?”

Sherlock remained too wrapped up in his own thoughts to acknowledge an answer to his own question. Typical. John rolled over and muttered something uncharitable to his pillow.

“There was a young omega woman, another rabbit trait, like you, but-” Sherlock stopped himself from pointing out it was yet another rabbit-traited omega with the more common, more conventionally alluring erect ears. He skipped ahead to the details, instead. “But she had a row of studs in each, just like the bathtub drowned omega in Marylebone last month. Why? Why would anyone do that to themselves?” He shuddered his own feline ears at the thought.

Now that was a coincidence, John had to admit. He remembered the glittering rows of 3 piercings, one every inch, and a fourth dropped precisely two inches below. Out of the ordinary, for sure. He supposed it might be considered sexy, in a cheap sort of way. He propped himself up and patted the duvet. Sherlock kneed his way onto bed and sat on his ankles, perplexed eyebrows still knitting.

“Well, there's fashion, obviously. But I've never seen a trend of more than two though, except for those punky goth kids, and the Marylebone girl was rather posh, wasn't she?” Sherlock nodded.

“So was this one. Why else?”

“Well, maybe as a kind of identifier? Or a-,” John gave a proprietary cough, “A sex thing. Like getting your nipples done.”

“Are they really so sensitive?” Sherlock pinched at his own ear repeatedly, simulating the pattern of piercing as best he could on what little appendage he had.

“Definitely,” John chuckled. He wasn't surprised an alpha, and Sherlock of course- of all alphas, would have such a blind spot. Alpha education in non-breeding sensual activity was perfunctory at best. Sherlock had never bothered to chase tail of any kind until he'd taken up with John, and was doubly naïve for it.

“Interesting.” He blinked his eyes as though it would Save State that thought to a file in his brain. “An 'Identifier' though... That may be something.” Sherlock sprung off the bed with only the unfolding of his lengthy legs, and swept back out the room. John was still a bit bewildered, but supposed he had served his function as sounding board, and burrowed his way back down into the covers.

One night's sleep (for John), and four tattoo and piercing parlors later, Sherlock had worked out his earring studded victims were really illegal omega prostitutes who had been tagged like cattle and subsequently decommissioned by their keeper. It was a messy business, and the police felt compelled to bring several similarly profiled omegas into custody until the depth of the situation was fully understood. A round up of rabbit traited individuals sat across the way from the counter where John filled out some backlogged paperwork for Lestrade, lop ears gently swinging with the ferocity of his rushed signatures. Sherlock paced and examined the waiting detainees. One crooned at him, “Y'oughta get a _real_ omega, love. One with proper bits and all.” She teased a long upright ear and flashed her pretty pale throat at him. Sherlock felt John tense nearby and his tail stiffened sympathetically. He snorted as he stepped backward toward him.

When the case was complete and they'd made it back to Baker Street again, Sherlock brought it up.

“You shouldn't be disturbed by superficial comments, John.”

“Easy for you to say,” said John, motioning to Sherlock's general person. “You've got that whole Tall Dark Panther thing going on there.” He cleared his throat and Sherlock narrowed his eyes. “I've been comfortably aware of being a dumpy rabbit earred omega since I was 15, thanks.” John extricated himself from his shoes with a bit more of a frustrated kick that he had intended. Sherlock did not miss it. 

Once he'd shucked his outer wear, Sherlock took a seat on his chair in the sitting room and beckoned John to him before he could retire to bed without discussing this supposed insecurity any further. It hadn't seemed important before they had bonded, but recently Sherlock had come to the realization that John was ashamed of his floppy ears. Most omegas had erect, expressive ears, with a pink flush that broadcasts their allure. A slender, rosy blushed ear was admired and lusted after somewhat universally. John stalked up to Sherlock and stood knee to knee. 

“If you believe that you're even more of an idiot than I give your credit for.”

Sherlock tried to strip away the haze of attraction and familiarity and see John aesthetically. The length of this ears passed his shoulder and hovered just a breath above his clavicle. Somewhat wider than the average ear as well, he thought, noting how comparable his own hands breadth was. His dishwater coloured hair gradiated down to velvet tips of chestnut. The dark ends matched the topside of John's often hidden tail. He liked that, knowing that secret. He loved knowing all the secrets of John that ordinary people were too dull to observe. He would have to dispel any lack of appeal John had somehow talked himself into.

He drew John down to him in the chair, tucking his knees astride his hips. Sherlock leaned into John and scented him, drawing his nose up the dusting of hair on the top of one long ear.

“I like that I'm the one who gets to unfold you,” he said, nosing his way between neck and ear. He could feel the latent heat of the appendage even an inch off his face. “No one else gets to see the pink underbelly of my omega. No one else gets to bury themselves in the illicit flesh you hide,” he swiped his tongue across it “-while they bury their knot in you.” John coughed a whimper when Sherlock punctuated with a thrust of his lap.

“Only for you,” John agreed, squirming down against Sherlock as best his trousers would allow. Sherlock brought his hands up to frame each ear, and bit along his throat while working his fingertips along the fuzz slowly.

“I think, if I didn't like them on you, as much as I do- I would have them off you.” He continued a slow grind while his hands sought out the sensitivity John had intimated the other night. John gasped when he rolled the flesh between the tips of his thumb and index. _Ahah._. “I could remove them, and splice away the muscle.” He darted at his mate's throat with rough feline tongue while he explained, “I'd have your flesh for leather. Make an exotic grain. Have them for gloves, so I could have my hands on them always.”

“Sherlock,” John warned.

“Not good?” Sherlock flicked his own ears in worry, momentarily stopping his manipulation of the tender spot.

“Nnuh- no. I know you're not _really_ going to have me for leather, but you're going to have me ruin your chair if you don't take me to bed right now,” he panted.

Sherlock scooped John's humid rump off his rigid lap, and they dragged each other off to the bedroom. Laid out in the low light of the evening they plucked at each others buttons while tossing about in the nest of blankets. Sherlock had managed to strip off completely first and hissed at the cool air that greeted his prick while awaiting the heat of his eager omega. He sat back on his heels, slender tail swishing in predatory anticipation. John arranged himself as soon as he shed his dampened pants. He bridged between the back of his shoulders and soles of his feet, so that his much smaller tail might hang accessible between Sherlock's thighs.

“I can't believe you don't know how beautiful you are like this,” said Sherlock while he lined himself up to his mate's entrance. He admired the flushed pink that was only for him, and rolled the fleshy spots of ear with his thumbs again. John drove himself down on the alphas cock, instantly keening. Sherlock began to remove his grasp so he might take the omega's prick in hand while John writhed beneath him, full of him.

“God. Sherlock,” he breathed, “Don't you dare stop. Don't- fuck.” He bore down again and Sherlock practically saw stars. John clutched for Sherlock's hands and folded them around his ears again. “Could come just from that.”

“We'll have to test that,” agreed Sherlock, matching his hips thrusts to the pulse he massaged in John's reddening ears. His curled his tail under them both.

“Uhn. Jesus. I'll be red for days,” John whined. “Everyone would know-”

“Know what?” purred Sherlock who was now burrowed between ear and neck, sucking at his bond bite.

“How well fucked I was,” he panted, “-if I had upright-”

“They'll know,” Sherlock interrupted. “No more of this 'dumpy' business. You're beautiful, and you're mine. This is for me,” he growled, taking one ear tip between his teeth, firmly as he dared.

“Yes yes yes for you,” John chanted. “I'm going to- when I... Fuck. I want you to knot my mouth, and try and make me come again.”

“Just from touching,” Sherlock accepted the challenge. “My hands on you,” he promised, and felt John seize beneath him as he came between them. He reveled in the tremors that rippled around his cock and soaked through to his spine. John felt at his sweat drenched tail and burning hole when Sherlock withdrew.

“Want to try it now?” he ventured, once his had his breath back. He reached out an arm to drag himself onto his stomach. John deliriously wobbled on his elbows while he awaited Sherlock, who positioned himself a pillow in the small of back so he might give his tail some leverage. His usually pale torso was as flushed as John imagined his ears must be. He crawled up between the alphas legs and bent over him to administer a kiss to the tip of each pointed little ear. They might not be as expansive and sensitive as his own, but he appreciated the growl it drew from Sherlock none the less. He worked his way down the alphas body, before acknowledging the insistent erection still wet against his belly from the slick of his own passage.

“John,” urged Sherlock.

“Bossy.”

John took his mouth on a tour of some favorite points, cheekbone, suprasternal notch, the little divot under Sherlock's left pectoral, bristle of hair pathing to his navel, all the while dipping his head from side to side so that the tips of his ears brushed along his mate's body. 

Sherlock finally couldn't take anymore of the teasing build up and buried his hands again in the flesh of John's ears. His omega rewarded him by gathering his cock into a moaning mouth. He laved his tongue along the crown before finally swallowing down as far as he could so they might knot as promised.

“How does it feel?” gasped the alpha, still working the thin velvet flesh as fervently as John slid his lips along his shaft. He felt his knot start to inflate, and allowed his tail to wrap upward, and collar John's neck as surely as his fingers grasped into John's ears. John hummed back at him, clearly struggling with himself not to let a hand wander to his own body.

“I could nuhh- never fuck you again, just touch you,” he threatened. “Just touch you and knot- uhnn- in your mouth and you'd love it.” Sherlock felt his own orgasm at first behind his eyeballs, then in the electric tips of every appendage on his body. John sputtered a moan, muffled by his alphas knotting cock. Sherlock loosened his tail and trailed it down his mate's spine, sure to tease when he circumnavigated John's own bushy tail. John's eyes scrunched with his mouth still locked around his swollen knot, clearly at the edge again himself. Sherlock flicked his tail at John's once more playfully before he traced it down the cleft to John's hole, still obscenely wet. John whimpered a sob and came onto the sheet beneath him, then popped off Sherlock's knot with a tut.

“That's cheating,” he said, not complaining at all.

“Innovation,” Sherlock smiled, smug and sated. He guided his omega back up to him, where he might continue to investigate this new sensitivity. He traced his fingers along the softly furred rim, pausing to gauge the thickness at various points. John sleepily nosed into his curly nape, and pressed a soft kiss there. Sherlock was only mildly surprised when one ear fell to mask his eyes from the glowing streetlights outside. He tangled a foot in a blanket and pulled it up around them, so they might nest like this. He allowed himself to drift thoughtlessly under the warmth; a perfect sensory shut out. He may need to be a bit more flexible about coming to bed in the future, he thought.


End file.
